


where do we belong? (anywhere but here)

by 99spearb



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Developing Relationship, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Running Away, Slow Burn, minho being a good person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-01-23 04:28:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21314185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/99spearb/pseuds/99spearb
Summary: It wasn't uncommon for people to be born with gifts or talents -- it is roughly estimated that 1 in every 5 people is gifted, but it's no secret that, since so many people hide it, the statistics may be wrong. No one knows for sure what exactly they are; scientists debate on whether it could be a genetic mutation, while more conservative communities claim that it's a curse bestowed upon a fraction of humanity.Han Jisung is 17 when his gift makes itself known and it's only the beginning of what he assumes to be the end of his life.Change comes to him in the form of a boy with glowing eyes and a teasing grin.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 11
Kudos: 201
Collections: drop everything and read this





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> i've been working on this for. the past 3 or 4 months now and ive never felt more relieved to finally finish something.  
hope you enjoy<3

It wasn't uncommon for people to be born with  _ gifts,  _ or  _ talents -- _ it is roughly estimated that 1 in every 5 people is gifted, but it's no secret that, since so many people hide it, the statistics may be wrong. No one knows for sure what exactly they are; scientists debate on whether it could be a genetic mutation, while more conservative communities claim that it's a curse bestowed upon a fraction of humanity. 

An individual's  _ gift  _ is, in a way, like a fingerprint -- each person's is entirely unique to them, which makes it nearly impossible for researchers to categorize them or pinpoint a specific pattern in which they occur. They seem to appear in both sexes equally, and present themselves in all age groups, although predominantly in children and teenagers -- there are very few instances of people realizing they're gifted once they pass puberty. 

Despite how common talents appear to be, the crime rates in conservative areas are frighteningly high. People there claim that the gifted are a "danger to society", and often decide to take the matters into their own hands. That mindset leads to gifted children being rejected, kicked out, even abused by parents who don't understand the talents can't be controlled, and once they present, can't be contained. It is said that trying to ignore an already presented gift can cause long term health problems. 

Han Jisung is 17 when he finds out he's one of the gifted, and it's only the beginning of his downfall. 

It's quite simple and anticlimactic how it happens -- he's working on an essay late one night, and his uncoordinated, tired hands accidentally knock over a glass of water. When he reaches out in panic at the near death of his grades, he feels a tug in his chest, sees the water freeze mid air, the frost covering the tips of his fingers. His heart drops, as he frantically scrambles away from his desk, hands clutching his chest in horror.  _ This can't be real,  _ his mind screams,  _ this isn't real.  _

Since he can remember, the thing that was drilled into his brain, was pure hatred for the gifted. His parents claim they're natural born killers, abominations that should be kept away from the rest of society; monsters undeserving of love or sympathy. Of course, the older he got, the more people he got to know, Jisung has come to the realization that those with talents are  _ just like them,  _ perhaps a little different in the skill department, but that doesn't necessarily make them  _ bad people.  _ Every time he turned on the news and saw more reports of people being beaten or killed, he would feel sick, his brain incapable of understanding  _ why  _ anyone would do that to another person. 

But, out of all things that could possibly happen, Jisung didn't expect  _ himself  _ to be the one with a gift. Dread settles in the pit of his stomach as he watches the still frozen water on the desk, mind racing with all the possible scenarios of his parents finding out, trying his best to figure out where he would go in case  _ something  _ happened, but coming up empty. Panic creeps up his throat, choking him and making him feel lightheaded, and he can't bring himself to do anything except stand there, backed up against the wall. He thinks about the gifted students he saw being bullied, ostracized even by some of the teachers; and promises himself that  _ no one  _ will ever know that he has a talent. It will be his best kept secret. 

It's not easy, hiding it - Jisung realizes that fairly quick. It takes him almost a month to learn how to control it; the power is triggered by any strong emotion he feels, but he tries his best to work on it in his free time, to stop himself from exploding during fights with his parents. He also learns fairly quickly that he's able to do almost anything with water -- freeze it, make it boil, stop it from flowing. Anything, if provided with a water source. He begins to leave the house more often than he ever did, walking to a small park on the other side of town. The park extends into a small forest, which harbors a small creek and an old, creaky metal bridge. The spot is secluded enough to make Jisung feel safe - he's never seen any other person there, and, as far as he knows, not that many people know about the existence of the bridge, or they simply don't care. 

Jisung manages to keep his secret for 6 months, because on one cold, winter day, someone interrupts his practice. 

Over the past months, he's been getting better and better at controlling his gift, trying to use it every time he's by himself. Prolonged periods of being unable to use it, having to repress the urge every time something triggers it are the worst, causing migraines and fevers that somehow feel different from the usual ones. The power gets more explosive the longer he doesn't use it - the longest he went on without it was two weeks, and ended up almost cutting down a tree with the sheer force of the water. 

Now he's sitting on the railing of the bridge, thankful for how small it is - even if he fell, he wouldn't get too injured. He stares down at the frozen surface of the creek, slowly heating the water up from underneath the ice. Cracks begin to form, and before he knows it, bubbling up boiling water shoots up and stops mid air.

And then, he hears footsteps. 

Nothing has made him this scared since finding out about his gift; he freezes in the spot, wide eyes unblinking as he slowly directs the water to fall back down, heart hammering against his ribs at a pace that's surely unhealthy. The footsteps come closer and closer, before stopping next to him. Jisung doesn't move, but he's sure his visibly shaking hands betray him. 

"That's one I haven't seen before," a voice softer than he'd expected comes from the person next to him. Jisung furrows his brows in confusion at how familiar it sounds, but doesn't move. "Don't look so scared, I promise I won't tell anyone." There's an almost teasing edge to their voice, and Jisung swallows down the panic threatening to choke him before he turns his head. 

The sight relieves him immensely, but it's just as confusing. Stood in front of him is Lee Minho, a boy Jisung only knows as a student two years above him, but who already has a lot of talk surrounding him in the town. Minho is one of the rare ones who don't hide the fact that they're gifted. It's brought him tons of trouble, as Jisung can clearly remember the boy showing up to school covered in bruises  _ far too many times.  _ But, there was something else. Something that no one really knows, but it made a majority of people in the town  _ scared  _ of Minho. Whether it was related to his gift, or to something else, Jisung didn't know. All he knew was that, first of all, someone  _ knew _ about him now, and, second of all, his parents have always told him to stay away from people like Minho. Despite Jisung now being older and wiser, and  _ aware  _ of the fact that Minho is neither a freak or a monster as they made him out to be, there's still the little voice in the back of his mind screaming about being  _ unsafe  _ around him. 

"You're Jisung, right?" Minho hops onto the railing casually, extending a hand to Jisung in greeting. His eyes, a glittering silver in color, are as non threatening as they can be, yet Jisung still feels uneasy. His hands are still unnaturally warm; a side effect of using his gift, but he hopes it doesn't  _ burn  _ as he reaches out to shake Minho's hand wordlessly. The boy stares at his with what Jisung would best describe as the curiosity of a cat hunting a bird, head cocked to the side. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 

"I've never seen anyone else here." Jisung responds, perhaps a little defensively, finally looking away. There's something about Minho's eyes that feels like his soul is being stared into, but asking the boy to not look at him would be too  _ weird.  _

Minho lets out a small chuckle, shaking his head. "Maybe you've never really looked for anyone." He says, shrugging as he jumps off the railing and dusts his pants. Jisung feels his heartbeat quicken, and he raises his eyebrows in question. "What's that supposed to mean?" 

He doesn't get a response - Minho ends up leaving soon after that, leaving Jisung to panic by himself, the angrily rushing water covering up the sounds of his cries at he breaks down.

Despite everything, after that encounter, he never goes to the forest again. Seeing Minho at school fills him with dread, knowing that his entire life is in the older boy's hands; everything could be ruined in a flash. But, with his only outlet for his gift gone, and his parents who now seem to be even more watchful (or is he imagining things?), Jisung doesn't have a place to let everything out. It rages inside him like a storm, making him cry out with the sharp headaches that plague him, deal with not being able to sleep, body too full of energy with nowhere to go, be completely unable to focus most days due to his health slowly deteriorating and the fear that has held him in its claws ever since he first met Minho. 

He doesn't blame the older, it was  _ his  _ fault for not being careful enough, but he doesn't even want to think about anyone else finding out. 

Lee Minho, however, turns out to be a blessing in disguise.

Almost a full month after their first meeting, Jisung finds himself on the verge of breaking; he hasn't slept in days, hasn't been able to concentrate on anything besides the energy threatening to burst out of him at any moment, manifesting itself in the throbbing ache behind his eyes and spasms wracking his body whenever he tries to focus. He hasn't gone to any of his classes - immediately after getting to school, he finds himself in the second floor bathroom, the one rarely used by anyone, seeing as he can't bear to sit through class feeling so  _ out of control.  _ He sits down on the dirty floor in the bigger one of the two stalls there, and closes his eyes. At this point it's hard for him to tell if he's hearing the blood rushing in his ears, or if it's the water running through the pipes. His muscles contract painfully, hands twitching as he curls them into fists and brings them closer to his body. Everything hurts, every single part of his body sore and protesting whenever he moves. It's not healthy, resisting his urges and repressing all of his feelings to make sure no more accidents happen. 

And, realistically, Jisung is aware of the fact that he could probably practice at home; his parents are not _that _perceptive. But the scared part of him, the one that came forward when he realized Minho _knows_ about him, knows that he can't take any risks now. Anyone finding out about him would mean the end of the life he's used to - he knows his family, _knows_ the kind of people he calls friends, knows the other gifted people in his community; it'd be almost like a death sentence. 

He doesn't know how much time passes as he sits there, curled up on the tiles and trying to breathe past the the sharp spiking pain in his skull and the twitching of his limbs, but he soon realizes it'd probably be a good idea for him to leave school and go somewhere else -  _ God, _ right now even going back to the forest sounds like a better idea. Standing up on shaky legs, he needs a second to compose himself, force back the tears threatening to fall from his eyes and refrain himself from turning on the water in the taps and doing something  _ right now -  _ after such a long time, he figures that the bathroom would be ruined by the force running through his veins. 

Jisung leaves, although hesitantly, and makes his way out of the school building without being noticed by anyone. His vision blurs slightly once he makes it past the gates, the ache in his head intensified tenfold. The walk to the park is not easy, with his whole body shaking and the pain making him feel lightheaded. The forest path seems more inviting than ever, the sight of it filling him with relief as it changes from the park bustling with life, to a darker, more quiet place. Wind rustles through the trees overhead, making him shiver beneath the thick jacket he's wearing. There seems to be something in the air, like electricity hanging in the air after a storm, but there's something in it Jisung can't name. He barely makes it to the bridge, before changing his mind and walking down to fall on his knees right next to the creek. 

Too caught up in trying to calm himself down, he doesn't get to look around and check for any other people around. It's getting unbearable at this point, hands twitching and jerking so much he has almost no control over them, vision so unclear he can't tell what's around him. It makes him panic; he can't focus on the energy enough to try to bring it out and use it, and each attempt causes his whole body to seize and the pain to intensify, causing fear to grow, like vines crawling between his ribs and squeezing the air out of his lungs. 

He's spiraling now, hands braced against the dirt desperately in an attempt to ground himself as he watches the water with tears blurring his sight and chest heaving with short breaths.

This time, he fails to hear footsteps coming towards him. What he does recognize, is an unmistakable presence behind him, making his whole being freeze in fear, heart threatening to burst out of his chest.

"You haven't been here in a while." Minho comments as he walks around and sits on the ground next to Jisung. The tone of his voice might've been light, but something like understanding flashes in his eyes. 

Jisung can't bring himself to look the older boy in the eye. "I had--" he cuts off when his whole body twitches, then clenches his jaw and shuts his eyes for a second. "I had my reasons." He grits out, red lights flashing in his brain at how the other's presence seemed to get rid of his panic.

Minho doesn't reply for a while, and Jisung doesn't have to look to know that he's being studied carefully. "Is that why you're about to have a seizure?" He asks, head cocked to the side lightly and eyebrows raised. He's treading lightly, trying to get answers out of Jisung while maintaining a conversational tone.

"I have it under control," Jisung replies quietly, now trying twice as hard to focus. "I just need--" He stops when what feels like an electric shock passes through him, making his whole body convulse for a few seconds, the pain in his head blinding him momentarily as he struggles to form words. Minho doesn't seem fazed; only mildly concerned at he reaches out and grabs Jisung's hands, holding on firmly. 

The touch doesn't help a whole lot, not when his fingers are still twitching in the older boy's grasp and his brain feels like it's short circuiting, but it's something else to focus on, and doesn't make any of his symptoms worse. "Close your eyes," Minho says, soft but commanding and Jisung obeys, glad at the darkness that surrounds him. "Can you feel it?"

Jisung almost shakes his head at first, but something manages to break through the noise in his brain; that electricity he felt in the air earlier, but now it's so thick it clouds almost all his senses, momentarily distracting him from the pain and making his hands still. Minho hums quietly at the change, squeezing his hands lightly. "I'll explain in a second," he says when Jisung furrows his brows in confusion. "Focus on it, and go slow."

Taking in a deep breath, Jisung uses how strong the feeling is to ground himself, and focus on the sounds of rushing water next to him. He tries to move the water, heat it up, but going slowly is harder than he'd expected -- the power feels like it's about to burst out of him full force any second. 

His whole body twitches, although it's less violent than before. Minho just holds his hands tighter. "You're okay. Just keep going." 

No words can describe how grateful Jisung feels -- someone who could potentially ruin his entire life, helping him get through the worst part about being gifted; something in him says that Minho most likely knows what he's going through, but if the older got the same kind of help is debatable. 

The water starts bubbling up, the noise growing louder and louder in his ears. Jisung tries his best to keep going at that same pace, as slow as before, but he feels himself slipping, the force running through his veins too overwhelming to control. He squeezes Minho's hands back, trying to hide his slowly growing panic. With each second that the water gets louder, the pressure in his head dissipates, making him want to just let go completely. He doesn't; the effects would be too catastrophic, but the idea is so  _ tempting.  _

Heat from the slowly boiling water reaches his face, uncomfortably prickling at his skin -- he knows his whole body is heating up with it, but Minho doesn't let go of his hands until he's positive they must be burning. 

Jisung lowers his head and pushes himself further, focuses all the energy he has into the creek. He can  _ feel  _ the water, arching above the two of them, the heat slowly becoming unbearable, the force of it making his entire body ache in exhaustion, but it replaces the panic and the previous pain he felt. As slowly as he can, he directs it to fall back into the creek, even as every inch of his body protests. Once he hears the splash of it going back in, he lets himself slump forward a bit, feeling as if a weight was taken off his shoulders, the pressure in his head finally lessening and his muscles already beginning to get sore. 

"I'm sorry you had to see this," he says after opening his eyes, staring at the ground in embarrassment, a flush creeping up his face. Minho chuckles softly, reaching out to pat his knee in encouragement. "It's alright. We have to stick together, all of us." 

Jisung hums in agreement, as he carefully thinks about what to say next. "What was it that you did earlier?" He finally asks, biting the inside of his cheek idly. The energy is still felt; more muted than before, but still there if he focuses enough. 

Minho leans back, eyes focused on something in the distance, as he furrows his brows in thought. "We emit some kind of energy," he says, shifting his gaze to look at Jisung; the look in his eyes is worried, but inquiring at the same time. "Whenever the power is being used, it gets stronger and can be used like you just did."

Something flashes in Jisung's mind - their first meeting.  _ "That's _ how you found me." He realizes, eyes widening. The comment causes Minho to chuckle awkwardly, his ears reddening and eyes looking off to the side. 

"I, uh, might have…  _ observed  _ you for a while before that. Just to see what you can do." He says, looking anywhere but at Jisung. His eyes shift colors rapidly; one second flaming red, the other bright silver. 

_ Right.  _ Minho's gift, as far as he knows, allows him to change his appearance at will - if it includes shifting into something nonhuman, or completely changing his entire body, Jisung's unsure of that. But perhaps there is more to it - the reason why people have become hesitant to mess with him. 

With a flick of his wrist, Jisung sends small droplets of water flying towards the older boy's face, making him yelp and flinch, shooting Jisung an offended glare. "What was that for?" 

"For stalking me." He replies with a teasing smile; it makes Minho shake his head with a quiet laugh. 

It's easy, he thinks. Talking to Minho is easy - once the initial fear of being found out has passed, it became almost comfortable to sit there with him, knowing that his secret is  _ safe,  _ or, as safe as it could be. 

After a long silence, Jisung catches Minho staring at him again, his expression unreadable. As he opens his mouth to speak, the older beats him to it. "Are you feeling okay?" he asks, eyebrows furrowed in concern. "It's been a while since I saw someone who's had it this bad." 

Jisung thinks for a second, considers his still trembling hands and the dull ache in his entire body, and nods. "Yeah, I just…" he bites his lip, some sort of discomfort welling up in his chest. "You kinda freaked me out the other day, and I have just ignored everything."

Something about it seems to shock the other boy. "Shit," Minho breathes out quietly, eyes wide. "That was... almost a month ago." He looks like he wants to reach out for Jisung, but stops himself in time. 

The tips of Jisung's ears burn in something like shame; he's not used to this kind of concern being shown over him. "Yeah," he mutters weakly, rubbing the back of his neck and avoiding Minho's eyes. "Didn't expect it to be that bad." 

"At least now you know not to do it again." Minho says, a small smile on his lips. He looks at Jisung for a few more seconds before getting up and dusting off his clothes. "I'm sorry for scaring you. Maybe I'll make it up somehow." As he walks away, he sends Jisung a teasing wink. 

Sitting there, dumbfounded, Jisung comes to the realization that it'd be a good idea for them to become closer friends. Because, as much as they have between them, Minho is still very much a stranger. One that knows more than he should, but a stranger nonetheless. Perhaps becoming closer would give Jisung some comfort in knowing that there's someone who  _ understands.  _

After that incident, Jisung becomes more careful; he uses his powers as often as possible, but each time with paranoia gripping his lungs, preventing him from actively practicing - he just uses it for the sake of not making himself ill again, and not to work on controlling it. He doesn't encounter Minho, either; they share smiles and nods when seeing each other at school, but Jisung assumes it's because he doesn't want anyone to get any ideas. Jisung's friends notice after a while, regarding him with judgemental looks and even more judgemental questions. He explains, timidly, that they've become acquaintances through some mutual friends; it's a bad lie, but they don't seem to care. Their resentment scares him - if they act like this towards someone they don't even know, he doesn't want to think about what they would do if they found out about Jisung being the same way.

Everything changes, once again, and this time it's more catastrophic than ever.

It starts with a fight - or rather, it starts with Minho once again. Jisung is on his way home one day, when his eyes catch a familiar figure pressed up against the wall outside of their school. Something twists uncomfortably in his gut at the sight of dried blood already covering his lips and side of his face. Who the person currently pinning him to the wall and yelling in his face is, Jisung doesn't know - he hasn't seen them before, or the person standing next to them, observing the fight. Perhaps they're new, he assumes; no one with experience would beat up Minho, not after people started spreading rumors about how terrifying he might be. 

His hands tremble as he watches the situation unfold - they're holding Minho by the collar of his hoodie, yelling something in his face; the older boy merely watches them with amusement, but there's a hint of pain in his eyes as he does. Jisung stops walking momentarily, stands where he knows he won't be seen and considers his options - he could do what his conscience is telling him to, which means walking in and making them leave without getting hurt,  _ or  _ walking away and ignoring Minho like he doesn't owe him anything. If he does walk in to try and stop the fight, the chance that he will be found out is pretty high - the thought makes him feel sick with anxiety, but his brain screams at him to  _ do something.  _

When Minho gets thrown to the ground and lands in the dirt with pained grunt, it makes Jisung's heart sink. He doesn't question why Minho doesn't fight back - if he did, it would only further the rumours that the gifted are monsters. 

As the assailant turns their face, Jisung feels his blood go cold when he realizes that he does, in fact, know the person quite well. The boy currently gearing up to kick Minho is his neighbor, a boy that Jisung was friends with before the two of them went to different schools and eventually lost contact. 

_ Why did he come here? _

The sight both scares him and makes him slightly more confident - on one hand, personally knowing the boy might make it easier to make him leave Minho alone. On the other, knowing him may make it easier for his parents to find out, considering his and the boy's parents are still in contact. His hands tremble, and he has to fight back the urge to use his gift to defend the older boy. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see other students watching, none of them daring to come closer. Jisung watches anxiously as Minho lays in the dirt, pain in his eyes contrasted by the cocky smile on his lips. His thoughts stay running, considering all options, preparing himself for the reaction of his parents, thinking where he could possibly stay. When Minho receives another kick in the stomach, one that makes him let out a loud groan and curl up, clutching at his middle; Jisung decides to step in. His hands tremble, and he hopes his voice doesn't betray him as he walks up to the three. 

"Why are you here?" He asks his neighbor, ignoring how he's becoming nauseous with nerves. The boy turns to look at him, face lightning up with a mocking smile when he recognizes him. 

"Hi, Jisung," he says, nodding towards his friend, who walks up and grabs Jisung by the arm tightly. "I heard someone here needed to be given a lesson, and here I am." He explains like it's the simplest thing, staring down at Minho with disgust. 

Jisung rips his arm away from the tight grip of the other boy and pushes him away harshly. "You should leave." He grits out, wincing when he gets grabbed by the collar of his shirt. He doesn't recognize the boy currently getting ready to beat him up, but maybe that's for the better. 

His neighbor stares at him quizzically, walking away from Minho to walk up to Jisung and stare him up and down. "What are you, defending them now?" 

Out of the corner of his eye, Jisung can see Minho get up on shaky legs. 

"And what if I am?" Jisung replies, filled with newfound confidence and protectiveness at the sight of his friend, beaten and bruised. 

The smile that splits his neighbors face makes his heart sink. "Oh, Jisung," he clicks his tongue, tone sickly sweet, and punches Jisung in the face. Sharp, biting pain explodes over the side of his face as his head snaps to the side and he recoils backwards, blood rushing in his ears. Before he can gather his thoughts enough to do something, he's being grabbed by the collar again and shoved against the wall of the school building. 

"Your mother will love to hear about this." The boy says, before Jisung feels another hit, sending a shock down his spine at the throbbing in his jaw. His head bangs against the building now, sending sparks flying behind his eyelids. It takes him a few seconds to process the words, but when it clicks, his eyes fly open and he stares at what used to be his friend, in complete terror. 

_ His mother.  _

Too caught up in the fear, he fails to notice Minho walking towards them, his expression now scarily blank. "That's enough," he mutters, just loud enough for them to hear, before grabbing the two boys by their arms and forcibly dragging them away from Jisung, who watches in fear, numb to the blood trickling down his face. With Minho now having his back turned to him he doesn't quite see what happens in the next few seconds - but he sees the genuine fear that creeps into his neighbor's and his friend's face, hears the terrified, high pitched  _ what the fuck?  _ as the two slowly back away. When the older boy turns back to face Jisung, nothing in his face is different than usual, besides for the worry evident in his features. 

As they hear whispers from behind them, Jisung's gaze briefly flickers to the crowd forming around; seeing the gathered people, hearing the hushed discussion, the echoing crooning of  _ your mother will love to hear about this,  _ makes him lightheaded with fear. His hand shoots up to grab Minho's arm in panic; the older boy's eyes soften at his distress, and he grips Jisung's shoulder, turning them away and walking away at a brisk pace. 

Minho, despite very obviously limping, basically drags Jisung behind him, walking a road filled with so many shortcuts it's almost confusing; by the time they reach a run down apartment building in the poor area of the city, Jisung feels dizzy, both with fear and pain. The right side of his face feels uncomfortably warm and swollen, and he can feel the pull of dried blood on his skin whenever his face moves. 

They have to walk up two flights of stairs before reaching the apartment; Minho unlocks the door and locks it behind him immediately, checking at least 3 times before he turns to Jisung and grabs his hand. He drags the still stunned younger boy to the kitchen and sits him down on a chair. "Wait here," he mutters, patting Jisung's shoulder and running down the hallway. 

Jisung takes the time to look around the apartment as he sits there waiting. It's clean, but incredibly so. The white walls stand blank, and all the kitchen appliances shine under the low light, looking as though never used.

It doesn't look like anyone lives there.

That, or whoever does is just ready to leave at any point. 

Apart from being clean and sanitary, it's also deathly silent. Jisung can't hear Minho doing anything, but hears tons of other things he wishes he didn't: the rushing of water running through the pipes, the blood in his ears, his too loud and too frantic heartbeat. 

He's shaking, Jisung realizes after a few seconds; his whole body hurts for some reason, and the combination of pain and terror brings tears to his eyes, and he quickly tries to wipe them off, but only causes himself more pain when his fingers press onto his undoubtedly bruised cheekbone. 

"Sung?" Minho calls out softly as he enters the kitchen, a first aid kit held in his hands. He's already cleaned the blood of his face - if it wasn't for the still red and irritated skin, no one would notice he even got hit. Jisung startles slightly at that, rushing to wipe off the tears that have managed to fall. Breaking down in front of the other boy was not something he planned to do, but all the emotion he's feeling like now is, quite frankly, incredibly overwhelming. Thankfully, Minho doesn't comment on his state - just hands him an ice pack and begins to clean his wounds. His presence and calm demeanor put some part of Jisung at ease; at least one of them can handle this situation. When the older boy finally breaks the silence, it feels like a bucket of cold water being dumped over his head.

"You shouldn't have done that," Minho sends him a bitter smile, smoothing his fingers over the bandaid he just placed on Jisung's cheek. "People might find out now." 

Jisung stares at him, wincing in pain as he shifts in his seat. It strikes fear into him, of course - that was what scared him the most about having a gift in the first place. Even though it makes his entire body shake and his breath quicken, deep inside him he's  _ aware  _ that it was the right thing to do. "I couldn't just  _ leave  _ you there," he mutters, staring down at his hands. His face throbs, serving as a reminder of what he has done. 

The sadness in Minho's eyes feels like a punch in the stomach. "I don't want you to get hurt because of me." 

Pushing back the fear threatening to swallow him up, he reaches out to give Minho's wrist a reassuring squeeze. Both of their hands shake. "I'll be alright." Jisung whispers, the cuts on his lips stinging as he smiles in what he hopes to be a comforting gesture. Every ounce of his being is absolutely  _ terrified  _ of what will come - now that the people at school are already suspicious of him, he needs to be ten times as careful in order to keep it a secret for as long as he can. Something tells him it's not going to last long; once the other students find out, it'll only be a matter of hours until his parents do. And as much as he hopes they will accept him,  _ because he's their child, after all,  _ he knows he shouldn't have too high hopes. 

Almost as if reading his thoughts, Minho sighs. "He mentioned your mother, didn't he?" He asks softly, eyes studying Jisung carefully. The younger boy tenses at the reminder, fear shooting down his spine once again, and nods. 

Minho stares at him in silence for a few seconds before speaking again. "In case anything happens," he starts, placing a hand on Jisung's arm. "You can come here, okay? You don't have to deal with it by yourself." 

Everything about Minho; from the sincerity in his tone to glowing eyes tells him that he has  _ definitely  _ done this before. And while Jisung is unsure whether Minho is doing this out of kindness or if it's just the guilt and fear for making Jisung help him, he appreciates the gesture  _ a lot;  _ it makes him feel just a little calmer about the whole ordeal. 

"I should probably go," Jisung says after a few minutes of tense silence pass, fidgeting in his seat before just deciding to stand up. His whole body aches, but he ignores it and sends Minho a small smile. "Thank you for helping me." 

Minho studies him carefully, worried eyes flickering back and forth between all of Jisung's bruises. "Are you... going to be okay by yourself?" He asks slowly, obviously not pleased at the thought of Jisung having to walk home by himself after everything that's happened. It doesn't help in alleviating Jisung's nerves that seem to be getting worse with every second that he stands there, palms damp and heart racing. 

"I'll be careful." Jisung replies, but he knows there's no conviction to his words. He's already mapping out the way home, thinking of all possible shortcuts and least populated areas, trying to come up with ways he could get there without anyone seeing him. 

With a defeated nod of his head, Minho places a hand on his shoulder. "Stay safe, alright? And remember what I told you - if  _ anything  _ happens, just come to me. I never leave this place anyways." He cracks a small smile at that, moving away and beginning to unlock the door. 

"Thanks. For everything." Jisung says as he leaves the apartment and begins the walk back to his house. With his hood pulled over his head, he hopes wholeheartedly that whatever happened today won't change anything -- he's not prepared for anything to go wrong just yet. 

Because the universe, very clearly, has a personal vendetta against Jisung, his life gets flipped upside down a mere two weeks after the fight. 

He's not sure what to expect when Minho drags him to an empty classroom and locks the door behind them. The uncertainty fills him with anxiety, but the news he gets feel like a slap in the face. 

"I'm leaving, Jisung," Minho tells him with a sad look in his eyes. "Moving across the country."

Jisung stares at him in disbelief, opening and closing his mouth as he thinks of the right thing to say.  _ "Wh--what?"  _ He manages to choke out, fear spiking inside of him at the thought of being left  _ alone  _ after everything that's happened, when the threat of his mother finding out still hangs above his head. They're not  _ close,  _ hell, Jisung would barely consider them friends, but the thought of the only person he can really trust  _ leaving  _ fills him with dread. 

Minho looks conflicted, turning his head to stare out the window with a frown. "You know it's not safe here," he mutters, the corner of his lips curling into a bitter smile. "I have friends in another city who just offered me to move in with them. I'd have to be really, really stupid not to do it."

He has a point, Jisung has to admit. At this point, if he had a chance to escape the constant state of fear he lives in, he'd take it no matter what. "When are you leaving?" He asks quietly, only partially wanting to hear the answer. 

The older boy shrugs, finally turning to face him. There's a look in his eyes, something like sadness, but Jisung doesn't pry. "Next week, maybe," he says, leaning against one of the desks and putting his hands in his pockets. "Either that, or next month. It depends."

"On what?" Jisung asks, raising his eyebrows. He hopes the disappointment isn't too clear on his face; a  _ week  _ is a very short time, and he's not sure if he's ready to let go of the older boy just yet. 

"On whether you'd like to come with me."

The clock on the wall ticks slowly. Jisung is sure his heart has stopped. Surely, he misheard it? "Come with you?" He repeats, voice barely above a whisper, filled with disbelief. 

Minho nods, the look in his eyes shifting to something softer, more concerned. "Once I leave, everyone's gonna move on to someone I know," he explains, and the realization makes Jisung wince. "I don't want to put you through all that." 

Something warm swells in Jisung's chest at the kind words, but it's covered by the anxiety that fills him the longer he thinks about it. He hasn't experienced more than the remarks or angry looks thrown in his direction and the occasional shove against the lockets, but Minho is right. He's currently, despite most people's fear of him, the main target of those who don't accept the gifted. Once he's gone, those people will focus on other people who they know - or,  _ think  _ \- are gifted. Suddenly, the offer sounds a bit promising.

But then, Jisung thinks about actually leaving - thinks about leaving behind everything he knows, leaving to essentially start a new life, with someone he barely knows. "I can't just  _ leave  _ like this." 

Furrowing his brows, Minho stares at him in silence. For a few seconds, Jisung wonders if he had said something wrong. 

"What's keeping you here, Jisung?" He asks, expression unreadable.

Jisung doesn't answer, thinking hard of an answer. Every single thing possibly keeping him here - his friends, his parents, the fairly comfortable life he has - is at the risk of being ruined once everyone finds out about his gift. As much as he'd like to think that the people he's closest to will accept him as it it, he knows the reality isn't as good. He's seen how his friends have acted when they found out someone they were close to turned out to be gifted; he vaguely remembers family members he used to visit as a child that his parents no longer talk about. 

It wouldn't be any different if it was him. 

"I'm not trying to talk you into going with me, or anything," Minho says as if sensing the internal fight Jisung is having with himself. "But I've been in that situation, Ji, and I know others who went through the same thing."

Jisung bites his lip and taps his fingers nervously. "I'll think about it."

The smile Minho sends him takes all his worries away, just for a split second, and Jisung can't help but feel unease at the realization. 

  
  



	2. ii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning!! this chapter does contain a semi graphic minor character death that is referenced later on!! 
> 
> there also might be slight mistakes seeing as english isnt my first language.

Running away is easy. 

Realistically speaking, it would end all of Jisung's current problems and is probably a wise thing to do. He wouldn't have to worry about facing his classmates or his parents, wouldn't have to worry about hiding his gift all the time. But, at the same time, he can't help but feel like it's  _ too much.  _ Is something as drastic as running away and moving across the country really worth it? Can't he just… try his best to survive until he graduates? 

The thoughts plague him whenever he's awake, sending him into a downwards spiral of uncertainty and fear, every day weighing on him more and more. He shares those worries with Minho one day; they've been seeing each other more and more lately, discussing everything from their pasts to the future - a future, that they will most likely spend together. 

"I just don't know if I'm doing the right thing," Jisung tells him, balancing an orb made out of water above his fingers, watching as it swirls around and distorts the image that it contains. Minho sits opposite of him on the small bridge in the park clearing, watching him with an unreadable expression. They've been getting closer recently, spending more and more time with each other before the older boy's inevitable departure. Minho is nice. He teases, but never judges, cares for Jisung in ways no one has ever had. He's a warm presence in what used to be a cold reality for Jisung, he brings comfort where there never was. And, if Jisung ends up catching feelings - no one needs to know that. 

"What do you mean, Ji?" 

Shrugging, Jisung passes the orb from one hand to another idly. "Can't help but feel like I'm overreacting," he mutters, reluctant to even admit it to himself. "Nothing  _ awful  _ has happened. I got beaten up  _ once,  _ and now if someone's in a bad mood they're gonna shove me against the lockers or call me a freak, or whatever. My parents don't even know about anything. I feel like running away would be a little… too much." 

The older boy stares at him in thought. Jisung breaks the eye contact after a few seconds, suddenly flustered. "Just do whatever feels right." He says, and Jisung hums in response, not at all reassured by the answer. "I don't want you to feel like you  _ have to _ go with me. But I know how quickly things can change."

Jisung hums again, throwing the orb back into the creek. "I guess you're right." He says, dropping his gaze to the ground. Things can turn completely against him at any moment, and he's aware of that - the thought only makes him a bit more anxious than he already is. 

"Hey," Minho nudges him with his foot, eyes sparkling with amusement. "If you stay here and someone tries to mess with you, just let me know and I'll come back." 

Jisung huffs out a small laugh at that, shaking his head slightly. "Please, you'll forget about me as soon as you leave this place," he says with a self deprecating smile, only half joking. He hopes it doesn't actually happen, for obvious reasons; but if it was him, leaving would mean getting rid of any memories associated with the past, good or bad. 

"I won't forget about someone who's life I basically ruined," 

Something sour stirs in his chest. "You didn't--" he tries to reassure the older boy, but he knows what Minho means. If it wasn't for him  _ stalking  _ Jisung and letting him find out, most of his bad experiences probably wouldn't have happened. "I kind of ruined my own life as well," he tries instead, shrugging. Deciding to step in during the fight was the same as publicly revealing his gift to everyone; somehow, despite all hardships that it brought, he doesn't regret it. 

Minho leans his head back against the railing, sending Jisung his signature teasing smile. "Guess we're both idiots, then." 

  
  


By the time almost half a month has passed, Jisung still felt unsure about leaving. 

On one hand, he'd love to. Deep down in his soul, he yearns for a change; wants nothing more than to break out of the walls seemingly caging him inside the small city, leave behind the same scenery that he sees everyday, the faces spitting hurtful words, the fear that plagues him. On the other, it's absolutely terrifying. It's unknown - he's never known life any different than what it is now, has barely left the city in his 17 years of living and the idea of turning his life around, while thrilling, is incredibly anxiety inducing. 

A certain string of events helps him change his mind. 

The first one happens after he comes home one day slightly late, having spent the last few hours with Minho. His mother, sounding just slightly in a bad mood, calls him to come to the kitchen to  _ talk _ and Jisung obliges, despite all the terrible scenarios clouding his thoughts. 

"You remember the boy from across the street, the one you used to be friends with?" His mother asks, feigning neutrality as she stirs something on the stove, her eyes focused and cold. Jisung feels his heart drop into his stomach, but tries not to show it, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. "His mother called me earlier." 

After clearing his throat, Jisung answers, but his voice shakes nonetheless. "Did something happen?" 

She hums quietly, still refusing to look at him. "Apparently you two got into a fight," her tone is still light, but there's an edge of cold beneath it. "He claims you have a  _ gift."  _ She spits out the word like it's a curse, finally turning to face him. Her features are scarily blank, arms crossed over her chest as she stares him down, looking for any sign of weakness. 

It feels like a punch in the stomach -- Jisung tries to hide how he thinks he forgot how to breathe for a second, leaning against the wall to mask how his legs suddenly feel weak. "Do you believe him?" He asks, sarcasm bleeding into his voice as he tries to send her a teasing smile. "Because I'm sure I'm normal." The lie slips off his tongue easily, but leaves the bitter taste in his mouth. Him being gifted doesn't mean he's not normal, despite what his parents may say.

As his panic slowly builds, the dripping of water from the tap seems to become louder and louder in his ears. It doesn't match the frantic beating of his heart, but seems to aggravate him even further, pushing him deeper and deeper into the space where he just wants to let go and  _ show her  _ what he's been hiding. 

It would be  _ so _ easy.

"Well, I hope you're not lying to me," his mother answers, voice clipped as she turns back to doing whatever she was doing earlier. "Because it's not much better than the fact you hang out with one of those freaks." The tone of her voice when she says it makes anger rise up his throat. Jisung frowns, considering if defending Minho is worth it; she already seems ticked off, and him snapping would not help his situation. 

"He's really not as bad as you think," he tries to defend softly, but a sharp glare thrown his way shuts him up immediately. It makes him feel sick, knowing that the very thing his mother despises the most is her own child. 

"At the beginning of next month, your father and I will be going on a business trip," she seemingly changes the topic easily, now sounding almost as if she's scolding Jisung. The news don't exactly shock him; he's spent many, many days home alone due to his parents being on various trips; but the fact that it lines up perfectly with the date he would be leaving…It certainly feels promising. It means less work for him, being able to just leave without saying anything. "And you better  _ not  _ bring that freak to our house while we're gone. Do you understand?" 

Her words make his blood boil. Jisung clenches his jaw, pushing down the need to snap, and nods. "I understand. Can I go now?" 

Once he's dismissed with a frustrated wave of his mother's hand, he goes back to his room with frustration coursing through him. 

She has  _ no right  _ to talk about Minho that way - hell, even if they weren't close, the way she speaks about him would infuriate Jisung. 

He takes out his anger by forming a makeshift barrier made out of water around himself, aiming to use up as much of his energy as he can to calm down. After the anger dies down to a small ember burning in his chest, his thoughts circle back to the irony of the situation. To the fact that his mother, unknowingly, lives with one of the freaks she despises so much. To the fact that the universe has finally shown him some mercy in the form of giving him a chance to disappear unnoticed. 

Some part of him wishes to leave, even if just to spite everyone. He wonders what it's like to not live in fear, what it's like to not have to hide. It sounds incredibly promising, being able to… go outside and not feel scared. It makes him seriously reconsider his options, the thought of leaving now making his entire being thrum with hope.

While the confrontation between him and his mother was simultaneously frustrating and relieving, the next turn of events is nothing but terrifying. 

It's a slow process - the amount of attacks on the gifted become more and more common in the area, starting off as name calling and small fights, escalating to robberies and even as far as a few deaths being reported. Jisung barely leaves the house, consumed with fear every time he sees another tragic story in the news. Whenever he's out, it feels like as though there's a thousand pairs of eyes watching him, tracking his every move; every harsh word thrown his way at school makes his throat close up in panic. None of these people deserved what happened to them; but Jisung can only hope he won't be next.

The situation reached its peak on a day that seemed normal; Jisung went through an entire day of school without anything happening, and after finishing his lessons for the day walked to Minho's apartment, having received a text from the older boy a few hours prior.

They sit in near silence for the whole afternoon, the only sound being the quiet murmur of the TV playing some sort of cartoon; anything to distract them from the reality surrounding them at the moment. Jisung briefly mentions his talk with his mother, shares some of his pent up anger and fear, and admits to wanting to change his mind. Minho sends him a soft half smile when Jisung mentions defending him, making his ears burn in embarrassment. Once it starts getting dark, Jisung decides he should be going home - Minho, not pleased with the idea asks him to sleep over, eyes filled with worry.

"I'll be fine," Jisung assures him then. "I'll let you walk me home if you're so worried." 

The words seem to do it, because 5 minutes later they're out and taking a shortcut to Jisung's house -- they assumed that since they're walking in a less populated area, it'll be safer and less likely to run into someone.

That was their biggest mistake. 

As they turn around a corner, they're met with sounds of a loud argument across the street. A quick look confirms their worries - it appears that one of the sides, a girl no older than them, is gifted, her hands sending sparks flying around as she yells at the man in front of her; the man appears  _ furious,  _ seconds away from hurting the girl. 

Minho is quick to react, grabbing Jisung's hand and pulling him into a nearby alley, pushing them as close to each other as possible. From where they stand, they can see the escalating argument easily, and Jisung wishes they didn't. His heart pounds in sheer panic as he watches the girl being shoved against a wall roughly, and--

_ Oh, God.  _

Desperately praying for his eyes to be deceiving him, his heart still drops at the flash of metal in the man's hand. Quiet crackling of ice fills the air soon, his panic causing the nearby puddles to freeze over and climb closer to where the two of them stand. 

"Ji, what's going on?" Minho whispers, startled just as much. He grips Jisung's arm tighter, worries eyes flickering between the boy's face and the argument. 

Jisung shakes his head, unable to tear his eyes apart from the scene. The girl's gift appears to be the focus of the argument, the man yelling something about being lied to, voice slurred as though he's drunk. "I think," the terrified whisper that leaves him is barely heard, but Minho seems to understand. "I think he has a gun." 

The suspicious metal object in the man's hand looks too much like a gun not to be one. And Jisung  _ knows  _ that the laws aren't strict enough,  _ knows  _ that the possibility is too high,  _ knows  _ that there's no good ending to this current situation. 

Minho narrows his eyes; first at Jisung, then quickly going back to the arguing pair -- once he spots what Jisung is talking about, his face goes deathly pale. "We need to go,  _ now."  _ He says, already moving to the entrance to the alley, when they're interrupted. 

The gunshot splits the air like the sound of thunder, loud and booming, ringing in Jisung's ears as he watches in horror. 

The body hits the ground with a deafening thud, blood pooling around the girl's head in a circle, dark crimson staining the asphalt.

It resembles a grotesque halo. 

Jisung feels nauseous. 

Ice creeps over his fingers and travels up his arms, mirroring the frozen state he's in -- unable to tear his eyes apart from the scene that just unfolded in front of him, feeling as if the time has stopped; as if his own heart has also ceased its beating. It shouldn't surprise him -- the area is known for being conservative and instances like that have been an almost daily occurence; but the fact that it happened right before his eyes, the fact that it  _ could've been him, or Minho,  _ is what scares him the most. 

A tightening grip on his forearm momentarily breaks him out of the state he's in, makes him finally look away. "We should go back," Minho says, and despite how he worded it, Jisung knows it's not a suggestion -- they're going whether he likes it or not. 

The two of them run from the scene hiding in the shadows of dark alleys, hands interlocked tightly. 

The apartment is deathly still and quiet. Not many sounds besides Jisung's ragged breathing can be heard; the crackling of the lit candles scattered across the room, the faraway sound of cars in the distance, distant shouts of people arguing outside. Whatever Minho is doing, it's silent. Jisung stares down at his hands, forces the ice to melt away from his limbs. His eyes strain in the dark, the only light sources being the candles and the dim glow of streetlights outside. There's an ache in his chest he can't quite describe; certainly not grief, but something similar to it -- while he had no idea who the person killed was, some part of him feels like he should be mourning. 

Minho comes out of the bedroom eventually, sitting down next to Jisung and draping a blanket over his shoulders; the younger hasn't even realized how cold he really was. 

"How are you feeling?" The tone of Minho's voice is soft and gentle, but there is the same kind of haunted look in his eyes that Jisung is sure is written all over his own face. 

"It could've been one of us." He says in response, the realization truly hitting him this time; his chest heaves and his hands grip at the edges of the blanket he's sure he's going to ruin it. The image of the corpse flickers behind his eyelids every time he closes his eyes, if he focuses on it he can hear the gunshot and the thud of a body hitting the ground, the whole scene replaying in his head over and over again, until he's unsure if he will ever be able to think about anything else. 

"But it wasn't," this time, Minho's voice is laced with something else; firmness, but with an almost hysterical edge. "It wasn't, and it  _ won't  _ be, Ji."

Jisung shuts his eyes and keeps them closed until stars burst behind his eyelids, focuses on the feeling of Minho's hand in his; shaky, but solid and  _ safe.  _ The fear squeezes his chest like a vice, and it's like nothing he's ever felt before - he's felt unsafe ever since he found out about his powers, but it's the first time he felt genuinely scared for his life. "I don't want to end up…"

_ dead. _

The word hangs in between them like a rain cloud, heavy and foreboding. 

"You won't." Minho squeezes his hand tighter, to the point where it's almost painful, but Jisung doesn't mind. "We'll leave soon. We'll be okay." 

_ We'll leave soon. _

Shaking his head, Jisung clings even closer to the older boy, burying his face in Minho's shoulder and hoping for the image to become erased from his memory. "I can't stay here," he decides, voice teary and choked up. "I can't--  _ we can't _ end up like this." 

"We won't," Minho's voice shakes when he speaks, face buried in Jisung's hair. While normally they wouldn't initiate such close contact, he assumes both of them need the reassurance right now. "There's less than two weeks left. We'll stay low. We'll be safe." 

Two weeks. They can make it for two weeks, hopefully. 

Jisung ends up spending the night at Minho's place, stuck to the boy's side until the sun comes up, light slowly creeping in through the windows and illuminating the strikingly bare apartment. Neither of them have managed to sleep that night, haunted by the night's events, and Jisung can feel the weariness seeping into his bones, weighing him down from the inside like lead. When the time to leave and go back home comes, he finds himself very hesitant to do so. Getting back home would mean going outside, and going outside means seeing other people, people who may or may not be against him. 

Getting back home would also mean having to explain to his parents why he didn't come home and then, being left alone with what he had seen. 

"You could stay here," Minho offers him when he sees the anxiety eating Jisung alive, a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes forming on his face. It goes without saying, that he doesn't feel good about Jisung leaving either. 

"I'll… be fine," Jisung replies, even though his voice shakes and his heart flutters nervously. He stares at the front door, thinking of the quickest way to get there; the shortest route is the same one they had taken the night before and he  _ definitely  _ doesn't want to go there again. He holds back the nervous energy growing inside of him, entire body trembling with the need to release it, to protect himself in some way.

He can't. Even if something did happen to him on his way home, he can't. 

_ There's no use fighting back,  _ Minho had told him one day with a bitter look on his face.  _ Once you do, you become exactly what they say you are. A monster.  _

It takes Jisung almost an hour to find the willpower to actually leave. By the time Minho is unlocking the door for him, a process taking much longer than expected, he already feels his breathing quicken, his cold, sweaty palms slowly forming a layer of frost that he doesn't seem to control. 

"It'll be okay," Minho tells him once he's done with the door, concerned eyes boring into Jisung's for a painfully long few seconds, before he pulls the younger into a hug, holding him tightly as he speaks. "Stay safe and text me as soon as you get home, okay?"

Jisung can only manage a shaky nod in response, not fully capable of speaking in fear he's going to freak out even more. 

When the door closes behind him, Jisung is hit with a wave of fear so strong it almost sends him to his knees. He needs a second to compose himself to just be able to leave the apartment building before he all but  _ sprints  _ home, thankful for the early hour and lack of people around. The only sounds accompanying his shoes slapping against the pavement are his rapid breathing and the rush of blood in his ears; his chest aches as his lungs can't seem to get enough air in them as he runs, but Jisung can't stop until he's  _ safe.  _

The lack of his parents' cars in the driveway fills him with relief, some small part calming down as he struggles to unlock the door with trembling hands. Once he finally gets in, he locks the door again, checking three times to make sure, covers all windows as a precaution, and locks himself is his bedroom, curling up on the bed as he continues to calm down slowly. As his breathing slowly evens out and his heart rate goes back to normal, he eventually decides to take his phone and text Minho that he's home safe, watching carefully for a text back, even as his eyes droop. 

Jisung is exhausted. 

The tiredness, multiplied by all the stress and fear of the past weeks, sits deep down inside of him, settling in his bones with a dull ache, in his head with sharp pain tearing him apart slowly, in his brain by whispering threats that keep his eyes open even though his whole body protests. 

Every time he lets his thoughts drift, even if only for a second, he can't help but think of the girl from the night before - who she was, what her plans for the future were, if she had any friends or family members who'd notice she's gone. 

Maybe they could've done something. 

Maybe they could've saved her.

Sure, perhaps if they walked in on the argument one of them would have gotten shot; it would mean Jisung would use his powers in front of strangers who'd identify him later on. But is their safety more important than the life of another person?

Body finally succumbing to the exhaustion, Jisung manages to fall asleep eventually, but any rest he might've been able to get becomes jeopardized by the sounds of gunshots haunting him even when asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all im sorry for taking so long! i decided that, instead of this story having 2 chapters like i wanted it to, it will have 3. the reason for that is very simple - chapter 2 was taking /forever/, and was turning out to be very long and i didnt want to keep everyone waiting. as of right now, it is almost done and if all goes well it will be posted before new years. therefore im posting this short chapter to make up for the time i kept everyone waiting!!
> 
> and second of all, i want to thank you all for the kudos and comments on the first part!! they really motivate me to keep going<3


	3. iii.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took longer than i meant for it too and i also feel like it's a little too rushed?   
as always, not proofread + english is not my first language so i hope you don't mind any mistakes that might show up.

The two weeks leading up to the two of them leaving are the longest two weeks of Jisung's life. 

He goes to school more out of habit than anything else, but now it's filled with noticeably less fear than it was. While still anxious, still seeing the girl being shot whenever he closes his eyes, still unable to forget the news report he watched about her murder a few days after it happened, Jisung is comforted by the fact that those are his last days in that place. That doesn't mean he stops being cautious, no - he's even more careful about everything he does or says, knowing well that if he wants to get away, he needs to be alive and well. His friends don't seem to notice his change in behavior; then again, the only time they've noticed something was going on with Jisung was when he started being friendly towards Minho. 

When his parents prepare for their upcoming business trip, he watches them and tries to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest when he realized he won't see them again. Sure, maybe they haven't been  _ that  _ involved in his life, maybe he doesn't have an actual relationship with them, maybe they feel more like strangers he lives with than actual family - but somehow, the thought of this being the last time he'll see them fills him with uncertainty. Perhaps it's just Jisung's fear of being unable to live by himself without anyone's help, but he tries not to dwell on it too much. 

As soon as he's officially home alone, Jisung begins packing. Minho had already told him not to take too much, for convenience purposes as well as not raising suspicion - two teenagers traveling alone with multiple suitcases would surely be an odd sight. Therefore, Jisung decides to take an old, slightly beaten up but spacious travel backpack and shove all necessities in it, as well as stuffing his old and even more beaten up laptop in its bag. He goes through his things multiple times, making sure that he has everything he needs, before moving on to an even more important thing - money. Aware of the fact that he has quite a bit of money saved up from various holidays and birthdays, Jisung rifles through his things to find all of it, and then walks around the house to gather any money that may he laying out in the open. He has been meaning to buy himself a new computer with what he had saved up, but he figures some things are more important than others. He had already bought the bus tickets for their travel, but he still needs to survive until he can look for a job. 

The night before he leaves, Jisung finds himself uncertain. He sits in the kitchen of his dark, empty house and stares blankly into the space before him with his phone clenched tightly in one hand. His mind swims with worries and questions, and the most prominent fear:  _ should he leave something behind?  _ Should he let his parents know what he's doing? Surely, if he just left without saying a word, they'd try to look for him. But he can't quite find the words to express  _ why  _ he needed to leave. 

The harsh light from his phone screen tells him it's 2 AM. 

He wonders if Minho is also awake at this ungodly hour. 

Jisung's hands itch to call the older boy, to ask for advice, even just to hear his voice, anything to soothe his nerves. 

A sigh leaves his lips as he gets up to grab a pen and a piece of paper before sitting back down and grabbing his phone. Coming to the conclusion that calling would be just a bit  _ too much,  _ he decides to text Minho instead. 

** _[2:04]_ ** _ u awake _ ?

Only half expecting an answer, Jisung grabs the pen and taps it against the paper, thinking what would be the wise thing to say. Should he start with an explanation? Or an apology? Should he specify where he's going? No, that's stupid- 

His phone screen lights up with a notification before he can figure out what to write. 

** _[2:07] _ ** _ yeah _

** _[2:07] _ ** _ everything okay?  _

Jisung stares at the screen until his eyes water, fingers hovering over the screen as he debates on whether he really wants to send the text. 

** _[2:10] _ ** _ can i call u _

He places his phone away once again, scribbling something on the corners of the page. His heart skips a beat when his phone lights up again - but this time it's with an upcoming call. Jisung hesitates for a second, before picking it up and mumbling a quiet " _ hi _ " into the receiver. 

_ "You good, Ji?"  _ Comes Minho's voice next to his ear, and Jisung puts his phone on speaker and lays his head on the tabletop, resting the device close to him. Hearing the other boy's voice made him feel the slightest bit better, but the anxiety is still coursing through him. 

"I just…" he answers, rubbing his eyes with one hand and picking up the pen again. "I can't leave without saying anything but I have no idea what to say." 

Minho doesn't answer for a longer while, and Jisung just listens to him breathe on the other side of the line, eyes starting to droop even though he's too anxious to actually fall asleep. 

_ "How about you try to get some sleep now, and I'll come over later and help you figure something out?"  _ Minho speaks softly, knowing well that Jisung won't sleep until he gets his mind off everything. 

Jisung stares at the paper blankly, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. "You promise?" He asks quietly after a while, sounding a lot more vulnerable than he'd like.

The older boy hums in response, and Jisung can almost see the fond look on his face.  _ "I promise. If you go to bed now, I'll come even earlier and we can make sure everything's all set."  _

That's another thing that Jisung appreciates about the other. Minho  _ doesn't _ have to do any of these things, doesn't have to visit Jisung and talk about everything, doesn't have to reassure him; he's doing it because he knows it's going to make Jisung less anxious. 

"Okay," Jisung says quietly, getting up slowly and moving to his bedroom. He doubts he's going to be able to sleep, but it won't hurt to try. "I'll try to sleep, then." 

_ "Goodnight, Sungie."  _ Minho says before hanging up, leaving Jisung alone in the dark once again.

Jisung, unsurprisingly, doesn't get sleep that night. He lays in his bed, alternating between zoning out staring at the ceiling and staring at every single thing in his room, trying to burn the images into his memory, knowing that it's the last night he'll ever spend there. After what seems like an eternity, he gets up and walks around the room, taking in every picture he has framed, every souvenir from various trips, every little thing that he has to leave behind. The fact that he's leaving behind the place he grew up in, his only safe space for so many years, makes sadness swell in his chest. He truly feels regretful to leave everything behind, but it's not enough to make him change his mind. 

The night seems to drag on forever, and Jisung has already cleaned up his room, showered, checked his things four times and is on his third cup of coffee by the time Minho arrives just before noon.

"You don't look great," he notes as he lets himself into Jisung's house, making sure to lock the door behind him. Jisung only huffs a strained, awkward laugh as he watches Minho place his heavy bag near the door and together, they head to the living room. 

"I don't feel great," Jisung admits quietly, sitting down on the couch and staring at the blank page in front of him. He had tried writing for hours as he stayed awake, but came up with nothing. "It's the only thing that's left and I can't-"

He shakes his head, tapping his hands on his thighs anxiously. A headache blooms in the back of his head the longer he thinks about it. 

"Alright," Minho mutters, moving to sit closer to him. Jisung can feel his eyes on his face, but makes no attempt to make eyes contact. "Do you know what you'd like to tell them?" 

Jisung shakes his head again. "I don't want to apologize, because I don't really have to apologize for anything," he starts, earning a satisfied hum from Minho. "But at the same time, I feel like apologizing will make them the least angry." 

Thinking about writing it makes him feel sick; in order to satisfy his parents, he'd have to write something to please them. To make him seem like he feels guilty for being born this way, to make it as if he's leaving to make  _ their  _ lives easier.

In times like these, he truly is envious of Minho - his parents are fully supportive, and the only reason the boy lives alone is to keep them safe. 

"Okay," Jisung sighs after a few minutes of thinking, rubbing his eyes tiredly and picking up the pen once again. "If I… apologize for being  _ this way _ and lying about it _ , _ and say that I'm leaving in order not to be a bother? Would that be okay?" He looks at Minho for approval, tapping the pen against the table nervously. 

Minho stares back with an unreadable expression, before breaking out into a small smile. "Yeah, it's good." He says with the expression of someone who has mastered lying to people. "Add some bullshit about how  _ everyone at school knows  _ and how  _ you should've been a better son and hid it,  _ and how  _ you're sorry to ruin their lives."  _

Jisung can't help but snicker at that, at how obvious of a lie that is. He writes the note fairly quickly with the help, but seeing the words written out on paper leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. Reading it through over and over again puts a frown on his face; deep down, he hopes it satisfies them, that they don't try to look for him. And the fact that they expect him to talk about himself that way? 

A light push to his shoulder drags his eyes away from the note. "Don't overthink it," Minho reminds him softly, taking the paper away and placing it at the farthest end of the coffee table. "It'll be fine."

Nodding his head, Jisung leans back and looks at the clock on the wall. It's still early, and they still have many hours left. There's  _ no way  _ he's going to stop overthinking it. 

"Let's go," the older boy says suddenly, grabbing Jisung's hand and pulling him up. "We're going on a walk." 

"Why?" Jisung questions, but doesn't protest as Minho drags him out of the living room to get dressed. He doesn't get an answer until they're both wearing shoes and jackets, and he's locking the front door with shaky hands.

"Because it's our last day here," Minho says with the smallest of smiles, taking hold of Jisung's hand and beginning to lead him somewhere. "And I want it to be good." 

Any other day Jisung would rip his arm away, too scared to be seen holding hands with a boy - and not just a boy, the city's most hated one. Homophobia, while not as prevalent in the country as it was years ago, is still a thing in smaller communities, and is just as big as oppression of gifted people. And Jisung's fucked already. He doesn't need to be _double fucked. _

But, just for today, he lets himself be a little brave and squeezes Minho's hand a bit tighter. 

They start off with a small coffee shop, located fairly close to Minho's apartment. It's the first time Jisung has ever seen it, but the girl behind the counter seems to know Minho well, greeting him with a bright smile. 

"Go sit somewhere and I'll get us something, okay?" Minho nudges him towards one of the tables with a teasing wink thrown in Jisung's direction once he walks off.

Jisung shakes his head in exasperation as he sits down at the nearest table and watches Minho chat with the girl. It feels awfully domestic, for them to go on walks together and spend time in cozy, little cafes. They could probably do that more often, if their situation was a little different; if they didn't feel unsafe just being outside. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jisung wonders if they could maybe do it more often, when they're out of this place. Perhaps they could, even if they stayed. Something about Minho puts him at ease, the way the older boy carries himself with an air of confidence generally unseen around here, how he's all bright smiles through busted lips and cradling precious things close with bruised hands; how he manages to be gentle and caring in a world that's never treated him the same. 

Because Minho cares about everyone and everything even when it's not reciprocated; from his parents and friends to complete strangers and people who've done him wrong. Him, taking Jisung under his wings helping him feel comfortable with his powers and giving him the chance to turn his life around, taking so much time out of his life for the sake of someone he just met; just so no one has to struggle as much as he once did. 

"I figured more coffee won't do you any good," Minho's voice pulls him out of his thoughts, approaching the table with two drinks in hand. He places a cup of tea in front of Jisung and sits down with his own coffee. "You're about to vibrate out of this chair." 

Jisung looks down at his shaking hands and laughs quietly. "Yeah, maybe you're right." He breathes out, knowing that it's only partially caffeine and mostly anxiety. 

They sit in silence for the most of it, and Jisung can't help but feel tense. The reality that is really is his last day in the only place he's able to call  _ home  _ begins to set in and doubts fill his mind once again. 

"You're thinking too much again," Minho points out, eyebrows raised in concern. "Do you wanna talk about it?" 

Shaking his head at first, Jisung eventually caves in. "I'm just scared, I guess." He mutters, tapping his hand on the tabletop idly. "This is… a big thing. I don't wanna do something I'm gonna regret later on." 

Minho sends him a small, almost bitter smile. "Oh, you're going to regret this, for sure." He says, holding a hand out in protest when he sees Jisung shrink visibly at the words. "No matter what choices you make, you're going to regret it. If you leave? Surely. But if you stay here, at some point you're gonna regret not leaving." 

Jisung figures that makes sense. There really is no right or wrong - it's just what he feels is right and currently, despite all the worries, he feels good about leaving. Perhaps not as much about the aftermath; his friends, parents, teachers, all the things they're undoubtedly going to think and say. His parents, who despite everything  _ will _ try to contact him, at least. 

As they finish their drinks, Jisung only grows more anxious. The silence makes him uncomfortable and yet, he doesn't do anything to break it. His knee bounces impatiently under the table, all muscles tingling with some sort of restless energy. Before he can open his mouth to speak, Minho gets up and gestures for him to do the same. 

They leave the cafe holding hands again and Jisung tries to ignore how it makes his ears burn. He lets himself be dragged around the city, listens to Minho chatter about nothing in particular, takes in everything that he might miss. 

The sight of the school gates fills him with something he can't quite describe; not fear, but that certain kind of sinking anxiety he only ever felt whenever a harsh look was thrown his way by another student. "Are you going to miss  _ anything _ about this place?" Minho asks, only half seriously, bumping Jisung's shoulder with his own. 

Jisung ignores all the bad things for a while, recalls everything that might've been good; the teachers who were nice to him, the few people that he could call friends, but doesn't feel bad leaving. If they all knew what he was doing right now, he's sure they wouldn't treat him the same way. "Not anymore." He answers, walking faster to both keep up with Minho and to leave the building behind him. 

The people walking past them stare. It's very obvious, and Jisung feels his face burn as he takes a step closer to Minho. 

Once the trees grow thicker and Jisung sees the familiar dirt path leading to the park clearing - the place where it all started - his shoulders slump in relief. Though there had been a period of him fearing the place, it is now very special to him; he feels safe there now, especially with Minho around.

"I think this may be the only place I'll really miss," Jisung mutters, letting go of the other's hand to sit down on the bridge railing and stare down into the creek. While always shallow, it now seems to be almost completely dried out, the dirt littered with dead leaves and trash in between small puddles. 

"Yeah?" Minho chuckles, sitting next to him. "Didn't think it'd be that special to you." 

Shrugging idly, Jisung doesn't lift his head from where he's still staring below them. "It's the only place where I could, uh, really  _ be myself." _ He laughs awkwardly at how  _ cringey  _ he must sound, but grows serious after a second. "It's also where you decided to turn my life around." 

Minho snorts quietly, moving just an inch closer. "I guess that makes it special, then." He says, smile easily identifiable in his voice.

"Do you ever regret it?" Jisung can't help but ask, taking one, self conscious glance at Minho's face, unable to read his expression. 

"Why would I?" The older boy sounds genuinely surprised. 

Jisung shrugs again. "It seems like you just… dropped everything to help me, even though we didn't know each other. I mean, we've spent  _ so much  _ time together, with you just trying to help me figure out everything and…"

"Ji--" Minho cuts him off, nudging his thigh lightly. "I don't regret any second of it.  _ We  _ don't have it easy, no matter what. If I could help one person, make it easier for them, give them a chance at a better life, then I don't have a reason to regret anything." 

The unspoken wish  _ that someone was there to treat Minho the way he treats the world _ remains between them. 

Only half thinking it through, Jisung leans forward to wrap his arms around Minho. "Thank you," he says, hoping to convey his gratitude. "I really have no idea what would happen if it wasn't for you." 

He really doesn't. If Minho hasn't seen him, hasn't decided to help him - Jisung probably would've ended up accidentally killing himself by repressing the urges, or used the gift in front of someone who shouldn't see it and gotten beaten up and left to die in an alley. 

Minho squeezes him tighter, patting his head. "Does that mean I'm forgiven for stalking you?" He asks with amusement in his voice, making Jisung snort and pull away immediately. 

"You're gonna have to try harder for that," Jisung teases, hopping off the railing and dusting his clothes off. 

"I can think of ways to convince you." Minho smiles, a half teasing, half amused curl of his lips as he follows to stand in front of Jisung, almost crowding him against the railing but still giving him space to move away if needed.

Jisung's breath catches in his throat for a second as he watches the other carefully, heart quickening its pace at their close proximity. He decides to play along, again feeling less scared than usual. "Why don't you show me, then?" He asks, eyes flickering to Minho's; now shining golden, stark against the dull, cloudy background. 

Minho looks like he's about to close the distance between them, before they hear a branch snap behind them, and his eyes widen. They lock onto something behind them, and he cocks his head to the side, watching whatever it may be. "Huh," he breathes out, walking away and in the direction of the sound. Jisung follows him, a little confused, but realization hits once he sees the person standing in the middle of the path. "Was last time not enough for you?" Minho asks, face morphing into the same expression he always wears around people like this; steely, unbothered, with a hint of enjoyment in his eyes. 

Jisung tries to ignore the way his heart sinks at the sight of his neighbor holding his phone in front of him.  _ He's recording this,  _ he realizes with a shiver creeping down his spine. 

"I just need to make sure Mrs. Han is fully aware that her son is not only a freak, but also a fag," he chuckles, waving his phone slightly.

In any other situation, Jisung would've been absolutely terrified. But  _ now?  _ Even though he knows the boy in front of him is most likely in direct contact with his mother, it doesn't bother him as much as it once would. 

He steps forward, trying not to show his lack of confidence, focusing on the small puddles behind him.  _ "Tell mom I said hi."  _

The rush is felt all throughout his body, but the small amounts of water left in the creek shoot out, knocking the phone out of the boy's hands and effectively leaving half of his body soaking wet before slinking back under the bridge. Jisung watches as he scrambles to pick it up, yelling out curses and insults. 

A soft giggle leaves Minho lips as he places a hand on Jisung's back. "That was so cool," he whispers, giddy excitement tinting his voice. "When did you get so brave?" The bewilderment is clear in his voice as they watch the boy collect his phone off the ground and walk away quickly. 

Jisung just stares at him for a few seconds. "Maybe someone's just giving me courage." 

The hand on his back whacks him lightly, and Minho shakes his head with a laugh. "Stop, or I'll leave without you," he threatens without any heat behind it. 

"You wouldn't," Jisung argues, grabbing his hand to lead them out of the park; it's getting later and later, and they should probably head to the bus stop already - they should be there as early as possible as to not miss their only chance. 

Minho sighs, and it's the fondest sound Jisung's ever heard. "No, I guess I wouldn't." 

The bus arrives way too early - thank God for Jisung's common sense - but that just means they'll arrive at their destination a bit earlier. It's a good thing; there's 10 hours of travel before them, and any way to shorten it or just do it quicker sounds promising. Either way, they're going to arrive in the city early in the morning the next day. 

Jisung sighs once they get on board, already feeling uncomfortable in his seat. Minho only laughs at his discomfort.

"Wait, I forgot…" the older boy breathes out in exasperation, running a hand down his face. Before Jisung can ask what he means, he sees Minho's face shift into a completely different one; a person he's never seen before. 

"Just for safety reasons," he explains, voice deeper and rougher than his actual one. "People know me all around the area."

With a chuckle and a shake of his head, Jisung lets his head drop against the window, the rumbling making his entire face move alongside it. He doesn't know how long Minho will be able to continuously use his gift for, but doesn't let the thought get to him too much. 

For the first part of their journey they talk quietly, Minho telling stories about the friends they'll be living with, and Jisung talking about situations with his school friends. Once the sun goes down, the older boy grows more tired and eventually becomes silent, and Jisung wishes he could at  _ least  _ listen to music, if he wasn't trying to keep his phone alive at least until he knows he can charge it somewhere. For now, he supposes he can rest.

The city lights blur before his eyes, only half registering the fact that they're moving; the only things keeping him awake are the fear gripping his throat and the uncertainty swirling around his mind. Everything else - his aching muscles and heavy eyelids - is screaming at him to finally get some rest, but he pushes through it, staring out the window blankly. The guilt is still present, and it weighs heavily on his heart, making him seriously reconsider everything. In his mind, there is that sliver of a chance that maybe, just maybe, his parents would've accepted him if he just told them. 

Maybe, running away wasn't the best idea. 

The more he thinks about it, the more regret sets in; but it's too late to turn back now. 

Something drops against his shoulder, startling him mildly from his thoughts. The sight of Minho's sleeping face coming into his view fills him with many different emotions. A part of him is comforted by the fact that he's not alone, that there is someone with him who knows what to do. Even though his changed appearance, his energy stays the same, and Jisung relaxes at the fact. Another part, the same that's ridden with guilt and regret, feels anxious. He's only known Minho for a very short time, he barely knows  _ anything  _ about the older boy, and  _ yet,  _ he chose to throw everything away and run away with him. 

It's weird, Jisung thinks, how the only person he feels safe with is someone he wouldn't even look at months ago; and yet, no one has ever shown him as much acceptance and patience as Minho did. He figures it's quite ironic, how not only did he turn out to be what he had most feared as a child, but also happened to end up slowly developing feelings for one. 

Developing feelings might be an overstatement - Jisung isn't quite sure what he feels; there is a certain type of fluttery warmth that grows in him whenever Minho touches him or sends him a teasing smile, but at the same time, Jisung considers that it might be just a reaction to receiving affection for what feels like the first time in his life. 

All he knows, is that perhaps what he's doing is right, despite the regret threatening to consume him. With the thought clear in his mind, and the comforting weight of Minho's head on his shoulder, Jisung lets his eyes slip shut. The rumbling of the bus beneath him and near silence around them help him slowly fall into that space between being awake and asleep, where everything is soft and hazy and, for once, his thoughts are not plagued by every single bad thing that's happened over the past months. 

Jisung is unsure of how much time passes while he rests, but his eyes open slowly once he feels Minho stir next to him. The bright, neon red numbers on the digital clock above his head show him that they should be reaching their destination soon. 

"Ji?" The older boy's soft voice reaches him a little belatedly, and he turns his head to look at him, blinking tiredly. "How are you feeling?" 

"Just tired," Jisung mutters in response, sending Minho a small smile and letting his head drop back against the seat. It's getting uncomfortable, his back and legs aching from being stuck in one position for so long, and eyes burning from exhaustion. He feels like he hasn't properly slept in forever - and truthfully, he probably hasn't. The fear had been successful at keeping him awake, even when the regret wasn't as clear and obvious.

The gaze of the older boy burns the side of his face, but Jisung promptly ignores it, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. "You should rest," he says, placing a hand on Jisung's knee, making the younger back finally look at him. 

"I'll be fine," Jisung replies with what he hopes to be a reassuring smile. "Besides, we're almost there." 

And Jisung is right about that - slowly, the sun rises, and although obstructed by clouds, signals the upcoming end of their journey. Some part of it relieves him, as it seems like it might be the end of their problems, for now. 

However, once they reach the city, he notices something off. 

Minho sits with his head leaned back, skin pale and shiny with sweat. His eyes, unfocused and glazed over, shift colors so rapidly it's straining to look at. 

"What's wrong?" Jisung asks, alarmed as he places a hand on the other's thigh. His heart pounds quicker with every second as he tries to figure out what might be happening. 

The older boy screws his eyes shut for a moment, takes a few deep breaths before looking at Jisung. "It's getting harder and harder to keep this up," he mutters, exhaustion evident in his voice. "I don't think I can last much longer." 

Right. 

Minho's shifting, while generally safe, drains him more and more the longer he's not in his body; at this point it's been  _ hours,  _ and Jisung is not shocked to see that it's taking a toll on him. He is, however, stressed about the possibility of the older boy passing out on him, because he has no idea whatsoever what he can do in that situation.

For now, he just grabs Minho's hand and holds on. "You can do this," he whispers, trying not to show the fear in his voice. "And if not, I'll figure something out." 

The weak squeeze of his hand doesn't do much to make him less concerned. 

Once they arrive at the bus stop, Jisung takes both of their bags, and lets Minho hold onto his arm tightly as they step outside. It's cold, and he can feel the shivering of the older boy's body as he struggles to walk, swaying slightly. In his mind, he says a quick prayer to all deities he can think of, for Minho's friends to arrive as quickly as possible.

They barely make it a few steps away from the bus stop when Minho stops suddenly. "Ji, I think…" is all he manages to utter before his eyes roll to the back of his head and he goes limp, almost falling to the ground completely.

Panic washing over him like a bucket of ice water, Jisung barely manages to drag the boy to a nearby alley, thankful for the early hour and lack of people. He all but throws their bags on the ground before setting Minho down as gently as possible against the wall. Scared tears fill his eyes as he kneels on the ground, holding onto his friend's shoulders to try and keep him upright. "Please, wake up," he pleads quietly, trying his best to keep calm even though it feels like he's on the verge of a panic attack. He has to keep it together, for a bit longer, for the sake of Minho's safety. 

Minutes pass, and the older boy doesn't open his eyes. Jisung's heart feels about to beat out of his chest, brain already forming worst case scenarios as alternates between watching him and turning back to see if there are any other people there. His panic skyrockets when he eventually hears muffled voices and footsteps coming in their direction. He stays with his back turned towards the entrance to the alley, all muscles tense as if waiting for an upcoming attack. 

A quiet curse reaches his ears first, before the feels the presence of another person behind him. "Shit, are you two okay?" Someone asks, and Jisung basically jumps back, eyes flickering between the 3 people now standing before him. They look not much older than Minho, but Jisung can't take any chances. 

"Stay away," he stutters out, defensively moving to be in front of Minho's limp form, trying to shield him from whoever the strangers might be. His heart hammers in between his ribs with the newfound protectiveness, as he eyes his surroundings and makes mental notes of every puddle, every drop of water falling from the buildings above; anything that could be used for defense. 

One of the strangers comes forward, palms held up to show he's not a threat. "We're not going to hurt you." He says slowly, inching closer and closer to the two of them, careful as though he's walking on ice. There's something off about him Jisung can't quite name, something unnatural that unsettles him. It doesn't help ease his fear, and his heart lurches painfully when he sees how close the stranger is. In a rush of panic, he focuses on the puddle behind them; sharp blades formed from the water shoot out and stop inches from the person's face - even though they freeze right before him, the stranger doesn't even flinch. The two behind him share a concerned look. 

"Stay away!" Jisung raises his voice slightly, in a futile attempt to intimidate the people in front of him - he sounds too panicked and unsure to do that. 

The boy straightens up - as much as he can with dozens of icy spikes almost piercing his skin. Before he can say anything, his eyes lock onto something behind Jisung and widen in shock. 

In a moment of panic, Jisung realizes Minho must've shifted back to his body. His entire body trembles from exhaustion as he struggles to keep the ice in the air, heart still pounding from fear - he won't be able to keep it up for much longer.

"Minho." the stranger breathes out, eyes flashing with realization. 

_ No way,  _ Jisung thinks. It couldn't possibly be…

Still, he retracts the ice just a bit, the spikes shaking in the air. It's taking every ounce of his energy to keep them there - but he'll do it all if it means keeping Minho safe.  _ It's the least he can do after everything that's happened. _

The boy moves forward slightly when the ice is no longer a threat, eyes soft. "My name is Chan," he says, palms still held up, eyes flickering between Jisung and Minho worriedly. "I think… you may be looking for us." 

The ice moves even farther back; no longer threatening, but just a reminder that Jisung will fight if he needs to. "Can you prove it?" He asks, still unsure of the strangers. His head throbs in pain, the sleep deprivation and use of his powers already taking a toll on him. He pushes through it, determined to protect his friend no matter what. 

Chan looks slightly confused, but looks around as if trying to come up with ways to prove it. 

Behind him, Minho moves. Too focused on trying to keep the strangers away, Jisung didn't even notice him regaining consciousness. His hands tremble as the blades of ice begin to melt - he's too low on energy to keep it frozen. 

_ "Chan," _ Minho's voice is quiet and pained, but the sound of it fills Jisung with relief; he relaxes, but doesn't look back, still focused on Chan and the two strangers. 

"Hey, Min." Chan says, a sad smile on his lips. The concern is basically radiating off of him, but he doesn't show it. "We need to start meeting each other under better circumstances." 

Minho lets out an amused huff, straightening up and placing a careful hand on Jisung's back; he visibly melts under the touch, now fully withdrawing the water back into the puddle - despite Minho clearly knowing and being comfortable around the strangers, he can't help but feel tense. "Are you okay?" Minho directs the question towards him, making Jisung finally turn to face him, worried eyes flickering all over the older boy's face. 

"Are  _ you?" _ Jisung asks instead, wanting nothing else than to create some sort of barrier to shield them from the strangers, but having no energy to do so. 

The smile Minho sends him is everything at once: comforting, worried, perhaps a little amused but with a tinge of exhaustion. "Just a little tired, Ji." he says before turning to the strangers. 

"Since you're here, I think we should go," He tells Chan, hand not leaving Jisung's back. It's comforting, how he seems to sense every shift in the younger's emotions and act accordingly to it. 

As Chan hums in agreement and helps Minho get up, Jisung can't help but watch the other 2 strangers who have now moved to stand in the entrance to the alley, forming a makeshift barrier between them and the rest of the city. 

The first one, short but stout, stands with his arms crossed over his chest; Jisung can see his arm muscles even through the jacket he's wearing. He looks like as though he's trying his hardest to make his face appear less scary, but the dark look in his eyes and strong lines of his face make his attempt a failure. 

The other one, taller but broad, stands with his hands in his pockets and watches them with caution. Despite his intimidating posture and blank look on his face, he seems to quite literally radiate calm, the feeling rolling off him in a similar way the electric energy does off Minho when the older uses his powers.

"Let's go, Ji." Minho calls out to him, making Jisung hesitantly move his gaze away from the two. As he gets up, the older boy wraps an arm around his shoulders and pulls him close - it makes it a little awkward to walk behind Chan, with the other two following them, but Jisung doesn't have it in him to complain, especially after how worried he was at the thought of Minho possibly getting hurt. 

Still, the unease doesn't leave him - something about the strangers, something he can't quite name, sits at the back of his mind, taunting and begging him not to trust them. Perhaps it's the fear of gifted people that's been instilled in him by his parents, perhaps it's just the fact that he doesn't feel comfortable trusting strangers; no matter what the reason is, he can't help us tense up and hold onto Minho a little tighter. Some small, selfish part of him wishes the two of them could just spend some time alone in a safe place, the stress from the past days weighing down on him and leaving him seconds away from a mental breakdown. 

The weather seems to be mirroring his own distress, the slowly thickening fog and harsh wind making their walk much more hard for Jisung, who's awfully fast heartbeat and aching muscles are proving to be very difficult to ignore. What makes everything even more difficult, is the eyes of the two strangers he can feel burning into his back, making his ears burn with some sort of nervousness. Him being slightly awkward around strangers was one thing, but strangers with powers he has no idea about that could possibly hurt him but are his only hope for now? It's a completely different situation. 

There's another pair of eyes boring holes into the side of his face, but Jisung doesn't quite have it in him to deal with Minho's worried stare, fearing that it will be the one thing that will finally make him break down. 

Their walk isn't long, thankfully, because not more than 15 minutes later, they arrive in front of an apartment building - the area they're in is nice, relatively clean and calm, and that calms Jisung down a little; he's not sure he can deal with loud streets full of people who want him dead. As Chan opens the door and slowly leads them up the stairs, Jisung can feel his anxiety growing, because  _ this is it -  _ this is what he was waiting for, this is what his time with Minho has led him to and he has absolutely  _ no idea  _ what's supposed to happen now. All sense of purpose that he once had is gone now, the only important thing on his mind being the need to survive. 

The rattling of keys breaks his train of thought; after stopping before a door at the 3rd floor of the building, Chan began unlocking the door - the amount of locks on it should be a ridiculous sight, but Jisung has seen way too much for it to phase him.

"Welcome," Chan tells them as he opens the door and beckons them to come in. Minho tugs Jisung behind him, still holding the younger boy against him. 

The apartment looks quite spacious; from the hallway Jisung can see a neat living room and kitchen, as well as it branching out into another hallway he assumes leading to different rooms. Something about it that he can't quite name eases his nerves though - something Jisung guesses is caused by someone's gift. 

"So," Chan claps his hands lightly, startling Jisung and making him tense up in Minho's hold again. "Before anything, are both of you okay? No injuries?" He asks, regarding the two of them with a concerned look in his eyes. Jisung watches Minho silently, waiting for him to answer. 

"We're all good," Minho says with a smile on his lips. "Just traumatized."

Jisung lets out a small, shocked laugh at the amused tone of his voice; it lightens his mood a little to see the older relaxed. Chan looks at them with exasperation.

"Right." Chan breathes out in something like disappointment, but his eyes are too fond. "If you need anything, I'm here, and so is Woojin considering he also lives here," he nods his head in the direction of the taller one of the two strangers who smiles at them warmly. "And if you want to rest or just some time alone, I can show you the room now."

Minho nods, his hold on Jisung unwavering. "That'd be great, Chan. Thank you for everything." He says, dragging Jisung behind him when Chan leads them down the hallway, a bashful smile on his face.

"It's the least I could do and you know that." 

The calm aura that was  _ so  _ obvious earlier disappears the farther they move into the apartment, leaving Jisung feeling cold and terrified once again. He lets Minho drag him, and watches numbly as Chan opens the door to a bedroom at the end of the hallway and leaves the two of them alone, the door closing with a soft click.

The room is quite similar to Minho's old apartment - with a twin bed and a desk in the corner of the room, but the pristine condition and lack of any personal belongings make it seem  _ cold  _ and much less welcoming. Jisung stands still by the door, watching as Minho takes his jacket and backpack off and throws it at the desk, and then goes through every single drawer and the wardrobe to make sure there's nothing. After seeing Jisung's unmoving form and the faraway look in his eyes, he walks up to the younger boy, slowly sliding the backpack off his shoulders and placing it on the floor next to the bed, and then helping him take his jacket off; his movements are so incredibly gentle Jisung could cry, but the heaviness of his heart and the sluggishness of his limbs and exhausted brain leave him just staring at the older boy in relief that at least, he's okay. 

They stare at each other in silence for a few seconds, before Minho sighs and gathers Jisung in his arms, rocking them back and forth slowly. "You did really well earlier," he says quietly. "But it's over now. We're safe, Ji. We'll be okay now."

Every ounce of composure that Jisung had disappears; he holds onto Minho so hard it hurts, presses himself impossibly closer to the older boy, revels in the fact that they're  _ safe,  _ that they've made it. "I was so scared you were going to get hurt," he whispers, voice cracking. His whole body shakes. "If you did, I-I..--" 

Minho hushes him softly. When he brings his hand up to pet Jisung's head, his fingers tremble. "I'm okay," he says softly; it seems like he's trying to keep himself together, but his voice sounds choked up. "I know you were scared. I'm sorry for worrying you." 

Jisung doesn't say anything to that, just burrows his face in the older boy's neck and tries to calm down; he knows, deep down that this is not the end of their problems, but maybe they can pretend, even if for a while. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is officially the end! thank you so much for reading and leaving support on this story as it had been sitting in the drafts for over a year now and ive only just gotten the courage to finish it.   
thank you for all kudos and comments because they really motivate me to keep writing!
> 
> also there might be a sequel coming in 2020. 👁👁

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! if you liked this, id really appreciate if you left kudos or a comment<3  
chapter 2 coming soon! in the meantime you can find me on tumblr @99spearbs and twitter @ghasthan !


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